


Hat Hair

by TheManWithAPurpleTopHat



Series: Villains are Better Lovers than Heroes [3]
Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Haircuts, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Like It's Kinda Gross Shapeshifting, Like No Value For Human Lives At All, M/M, Messy Shapeshifting, Might Be A Bit Much, Oh I Forgot To Mention Casual Genocide, PaperHat At The End, Shapeshifting, They're villains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-19 16:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19136221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheManWithAPurpleTopHat/pseuds/TheManWithAPurpleTopHat
Summary: Dr. Flug needs a haircut, and going to a barber isn’t an option for obvious reasons. He can’t trust Demencia or 5.0.5 with scissors that close to his face, but he’s not really sure how much to trust his boss either.





	Hat Hair

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've had for a while based on some fanart I saw a long time ago. I've skimmed over it a few times, but I've probably missed some typos. If you see them let me know and I'll fix them.  
> Special thanks to my good friend MasterPsychosis who helped me come up with this title. Finally using your puns for good instead of evil!

Black Hat was surprised to round the corner and see his scientist waiting for him by the door to his office. Of course, he didn’t show his curiosity. Instead, he bared his fangs in a look of dangerous annoyance, growing a little taller for good measure.

“Would you like to explain,” he growled slowly, “Why you are here instead of working, _doctor_?”

“S-s-sí, Jefe,” Flug gulped, tugging on the collar of his T-shirt, “It’s, uh, it’s 12 o’clock, Mr. Black Hat, sir.”

“Your point, Flug?”

Even though the eldritch barely moved a muscle, the tone of his voice alone was enough to make Dr. Flug flinch.

“Forgive me, Jefecito, but y-yesterday I scheduled a meeting with you at this time. I understand you’re very busy and if you want to cancel I don’t mind I-”

“Shut up and get in here, Flug.” Black Hat said, opening his door with a tendril of smoke. He strolled into his office, adjusting to his usual height as the bones in his spine made wet, sickening cracks. He snapped his head backwards with one final, loud pop, grinning at the sick look in his scientist’s eyes. He did vaguely remember Flug asking for a meeting when he was trying to read his newspaper, now that he thought about it. In fact, knowing what time of year it was, he was certain he knew exactly what this was about.

Flug jumped as the door slammed shut behind him, trembling slightly. His boss gave him a predatory grin, adjusting his gloves like a surgeon preparing to operate. The sight made Flug’s knees weak.

“You know what to do, doctor.” With each word, a long, forked tongue rolled out between his pale green fangs. Flug could barely stand as he struggled to remove his lab coat.

Even after years of meetings such as this, Flug still had to squeeze his eyes shut and hold his breath to work up the nerve to slowly pull his bag and goggles off. Black Hat took a minute to study his doctor’s face. This time of year was the only chance he got to see it up close, and damn it if he wasn’t going to savor every second of it. His doctor was so irregular, so deformed and asymmetrical. Most humans were so repulsively round, so soft and symmetrical. But Flug, oh Flug, with his network of jagged burns and scars. His rust-colored freckles that looked like sprayed blood on his pale skin. His dark bags like frames around bloodshot grey eyes. His features were more than tolerable to the eldritch being, one might even venture to suggest Black Hat found him attractive, if one was willing to die very slowly and painfully.

At the moment, the doctor’s curly brown hair was pinned close to his scalp with countless bobby pins. Of course, that was easily remedied. With a wave of his hand, a chair materialized in the center of the room. Flug sank down into the chair as Black Hat took his lab coat and draped it around his neck and shoulders. Extending a claw, the eldritch made quick work of the pins. Within seconds, long waves of brown were cascading down Flug’s shoulders. There was so much hair, had he been wearing the bag now it would’ve surely still been visible. Of course, this wouldn’t do, but he couldn’t exactly go to a barber either. Hence he had started having meetings like this one once a year with Black Hat.

Bone and muscle crumbled and peeled back, joints fusing as two metal blades erupted out of Black Hat’s hand. Once the carnage settled and the skin reformed, there was a large pair of scissors where a hand had once been. The other hand also folded in on itself, twisting and shredding into the shape of a comb. It was fascinating and terrifying to watch, and Flug was sure that the sounds would haunt him for the rest of the year. His boss slowly circled him, but he dared not turn his head. He focused his gaze onto the window, peering at the city through the red tinted glass as he felt the cold surface of Black Hat’s “hand” run through his hair.

“Hold still if you want your blood to remain inside your body.”

“Sí, Jefe.” At some point over the years, the warning had lost its ability to frighten Flug. Those words became little more than a signal that the haircut was about to start, and the scientist let out the breath he was holding. In the reflection of the window, he could just make out Black Hat’s focused gaze as he took hold of a handful of Flug’s hair. Flug’s face was thankfully shielded from the window by the massive chair behind Black Hat’s desk.

The eldritch being began by running the comb through Flug’s hair, slowly working the tangles out of the thick locks. His movements were methodical, steady but not rushed. Flug felt no pain as the knots and tangles were tugged free and his hair was parted. Tentacles pinned his hair into sections, making it easier for Black Hat to work. The first few cuts were swift, large chunks of hair drifting to the floor. However, the eldritch slowed his pace, taking the time to run his comb through the locks and snip away the curls with smooth, even lines. The sound of the scissors carving their way through the brown jungle of hair was the only sound in the room.

It was relaxing for Flug, in a way. He knew he must be insane, being this comfortable with letting his boss hold sharp metal this close to his face and neck. Thinking back now, he couldn’t remember what had possessed him to ask Black Hat to do this the first time. There was something familiar and comfortable in their little yearly ritual. It was just one of those things they’d done so long now, neither of them questioned it. It wasn’t trust- well, Flug supposed he did trust Black Hat enough not to slice his ear off just for the fun of it, but he still didn’t dare move.

A thought did occur to him. In all the years this had gone one, he hadn’t been nicked once. It wasn’t like his boss to pass up on an opportunity to inflict pain. Did he dare ask? His curiosity was getting the better of him. So much for playing it safe while his boss was wielding a weapon.

“Mr. Black Hat, sir?”

“Hmm?”

“I was just wondering… why it is you cut my hair for me?”

There was a pause, the crisp sound of snipping filling the silence for several seconds. Flug could practically feel the smile on Black Hat’s face, and it was more terrifying than any of his scowls or glares.

“Are you aware, doctor, of the tale of Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos?”

“The three Greek fates?”

“Correcto, doctor. Atropos could end a human life only by cutting their special thread made by Clotho. Rather primitive, really. I can end a life no matter what I’m cutting. What a pity, your yearly haircuts only amount to about 99,437 deaths.”

The doctor nearly choked, struggling to remain still. “You know how many hairs are on my head?” he sputtered.

“That’s what you took from that?” Black Hat scoffed, “Such blatant disregard for the genocide you’re assisting in. How evil of you.”

“Is someone somewhere really dying every time you cut one of my hairs?”

“ _Do you dare question me, Flug_?”

“O-of course not, Jefe! I would never!”

The eldritch muttered under his breath, a low growl rumbling in his throat as he ran the comb through Flug’s hair again. He was about half of the way done with his task, turning the long locks into a close-cropped yet stylish style. He knew it would be covered by the bag as soon as he was done, but he wanted his employees well-groomed nonetheless.

They settled back into silence, and after a few minutes of snipping the tension in Flug’s shoulders left. He felt an ice-cold hand run through his hair, and could have sworn he felt claws lightly massage his scalp. He was probably imagining it, but it felt divine regardless. His head spent most of the time trapped under a paper bag, and the attention it was getting today had him almost ready to melt. However, it didn’t last long, and before he knew it Black Hat was shaking stray hairs out of the lab coat. The hair burst into flame the second it touched the carpet, eliminating the mess of curls with ease. Flug ran a hand through his newly shorn hair, satisfied that it would stay out of the way for another year. He pulled his bag and goggles back on, allowing them to settle comfortably back into place like a second skin.

“I believe that’s the end of your lunch break, doctor,” Black Hat commented, handing the coat to Flug. As he was taking it, his hand unintentionally brushed against his boss’s.

Flug took in a sharp breath, perhaps allowing his fingers to linger a little too long at the feeling of the eldritch’s cold skin against his latex gloves. He wasn’t sure how to react at first, but Black Hat didn’t give him the chance to think about his next move. The eldritch being shoved him out the office door, shouting again that Flug needed to get back to work. The scientist stood stunned in the hallway for a moment, staring down at his hand. The skin was still slightly cool where it had touch Black Hat’s fingers. With a quick shake of his head, he slipped his coat back on and hurried down to the lab.

 

_“This just in, reports are flooding in of a series of sinkholes collapsing, the force and size of the holes causing several large buildings to cave in. Rescue teams have only just managed to arrive on the scene. It is unclear how far the damage extends or what caused so many sinkholes, but the prevailing theory is a massive earthquake. The death total could very well be close to a hundred thousand. Witnesses say it’s as if a giant, invisible pair of scissors cut into the Earth.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I also wanna thank RosieQ for helping me get back into writing. Hopefully with their help I can give y'all more content in a remotely timely fashion.  
> Now then if you'll excuse me I need a nap.


End file.
